The Slade Revelation
by Andre' Betita
Summary: Robin is presented a golden opportunity when a time traveling device materializes right in front of him. He decides to go back in time to investigate Slade's origins. Rated for violence.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: I know that some of you might possibly already know about Slade's origins, but for the sake of those who don't know yet, please don't spoil anything when making reviews. Also, I'm not really following the canonical version of Slade's origins. So things might be a little different from the version you read in the comics. All of the things written in this story are meant to follow the Teen Titans animated series storyline. This particular chapter is just a short introduction to the story. The real story begins at chapter 2. In writing the story, I've also taken into consideration giving additional facts from the animated series to accommodate readers who haven't seen the animated series episodes.

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**Chapter I**

Slade. It's just one word. But this one word is all it took to cast a blanket of everlasting uneasiness upon Robin, the leader of the Teen Titans.

Slade. It's just a name. But this is the name that had constantly threatened the security of Jump City for the longest time since the Teen Titans was established.

Slade is the villain that stood for everything that the Titans are protecting their beloved city from. He had done everything in his attempts to crush our teenage superheroes: set deadly prisoners on the loose; hired an organized crime team to fight them; manipulated the forces of nature; forced or tricked members of the Titans into fighting their teammates; used demonic powers for destruction…the list goes on and on.

Sure, when the demon Trigon took control of the planet, Slade was forced to work _with_ the Titans for a short while. Yes, he did help Robin find the missing Titan, Raven. Yes, he did help defeat Trigon. And, yes, he did help save the day from the end of the world. But he made it solemnly clear to Robin that after their little adventure together, nothing would've changed. And he'd still be nasty old Slade, the Titans' mortal – or seemingly immortal – enemy.

Robin had been known to express obsession when it comes to dealing with Slade. Although that obsession had toned down a bit, the hero had always been careful not to fall short of vigilance. And ever since Beast Boy reported that he had encountered a robotic decoy of Slade in one of the villain's former headquarters, Robin knew that Slade was out there somewhere, at large, and he must be stopped.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter II**

_**Jump City, ten years before the founding of the Teen Titans.**_

Mr. Wilson had just finished his latest project and had decided that he would take the day off. Today he was on his way to hugs and kisses from his wife and kids. He had been away for quite a number of days and was glad that he now had the chance to make up to his loved ones for his absence. He knew that it was a little early in the day, and that he would probably be met by a rather empty house when he gets there. His wife would be at work, and the kids would be in school. But he had been looking forward to getting home for the entire duration of his leave. A few more hours would be all worth it when they're all together again.

It didn't take him long to spot his long-time butler and companion amidst the sea of people. It's not like the butler was carrying a sign or anything with his name on it (unlike many fetchers you usually see in airports). But there had always been a distinct aura that seemed to cling to people who lived in the house of the Wilsons. That aura, likewise, made it fairly easy for the butler to notice his master coming towards him.

"I assume you'd want to go straight home, sir?", the butler greeted as he helped his master with his luggage.

"Yeah…home…" his master replied with a smile. Maybe the house wouldn't be so empty, after all.

* * *

The car pulled over and out went Wilson. He wasn't the type who needed the butler to open the door for him. The butler came out a few seconds after. He smiled, understanding his master's excitement to enter his glorious home. 

Wilson jogged up the stairs, and to the front doors of the mansion whose elegant exterior never failed to bedazzle visitors. But to the Wilson family, it was just a shell to the real spirit of joy that dwelt inside. The butler, catching up with Mr. Wilson, opened the great, oaken front doors. They closed the door behind them and made their way across the guest room. Wilson let himself collapse unto the couch whose comfortable surface he had so missed.

"Anything I can get you, sir?" the butler said with almost a chuckle.

"Oooohhh…" his master replied, burying himself further into the sofa. "…just let me die in peace…"

The butler laughed, and then said, "Let you die? What did I save you from that bomb for, then?"

"Hey!" Wilson responded, turning his head to his butler and waving a finger at him. "I saved your life at Viet Cong, too!"

Both men laughed.

"Very well…I'll be upstairs if you need me, sir."

"Thanks, man…"

Wilson re-buried his head back on the couch. He laid there for a minute, an hour, an eternity of just taking a break after some hard work.

And then the phone rang.

Looking up, he remembered that the phone was just on a table right beside the sofa. "Sit tight, Will! I'll get it!", he screamed over his shoulder.

"Hello?" he greeted.

"Mr. Wilson?" A sinister voice greeted back.

"That's…me. Who's this, please?"

"This isn't really the most secure way of conveying the message. All you need to know is that I have Joseph and you will let me do all the talking from hereon in until I hang up."

He understood completely. If he as much as uttered a single word for the rest of the phone conversation, this psycho would kill his son. He dared not, did not, speak.

"Alright, listen up." the sinister voice said again. Wilson made sure to pay attention. He knew that what was coming was important. "Many emperors embody titanic might, especially in new perils. Inevitably, emperors rise, fall, or remain timeless. Yet omnipresence, never easily attained through self-empowerment, eludes vain emperors nonetheless."

And then the mystery caller hung up, leaving him to deal with the cryptic message.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter III**

_**Jump City, the present.**_

The room where the police stored top-secret video files was dark and quiet. And darker and quieter still when a black, oval portal materialized on a clearing on the floor. Two figures soundlessly rose out from the swirling pool of magic – one, a mixture of man and metal that led many to call it a _cybernetic organism_ ("Cyborg" for short); the other, a young girl (named "Raven") of tremendous magical powers, who has donned a black suit and a purplish-blue cloak.

"Is Robin sure about this?" Cyborg whispered.

"It's about Slade, Cyborg. Of course, he's sure. Now, keep quiet.", the girl replied…rather bluntly.

A small flashlight slid out from Cyborg's right shoulder and provided some light for the two of them as they walked through endless shelves of confidential videotapes, the contents of which are sure to set you on the run from one group or another when viewed.

"Cyborg, over here.", Raven broke the silence with this whisper as she used telekinesis to pull a videotape from the shelf. Cyborg walked closer to shine some light.

"It's the one, alright.", he said as soon as he was sure it was the tape they were sent out to find. A slit, the size of the videotape, opened somewhere on Cyborg's metallic breastplate. Raven inserted the tape, still using telekinesis. It took about four seconds before Cyborg nodded to signal that he had done his job. Raven got the tape out and returned it to its proper place with her powers.

Deeper darkness fell upon the room once again as the two teens sank unto the dark portal that now appeared below them. The portal closed after they were gone. No fingerprints. No evidence.

* * *

"Yo! BB! Star! We're back!" Cyborg yelled upon returning to their T-shaped headquarters, the Titans Tower. 

"Friends!", greeted a flying girl in a purplish top and skirt, who wasn't really human. Starfire was a "_Tamaranean_" from the planet "_Tamaran_" (it's an alien thing). "Did you locate the adhesive sheet that you were sent out to seek?", she asked.

"Uhh…that's a different kind of 'tape', Star.", commented the green-skinned Beast Boy as he entered the room, scratching his head.

"Oh, I see…" Starfire said, yet learning another lesson about Earth's culture.

"In any case, we have a copy of the tape. Where's Robin?", Raven asked.

Starfire's eyes drooped to the ground as she answered, "He is…in his room."

"Don't sweat it. I'll bring it to him." Cyborg said.

* * *

"Yo, Robin! Here's a copy of that tape." spoke Cyborg upon entering their leader's dark room. He produced a small data disc from a small slit that opened on the surface of his metallic left wrist. He handed it over to the spike-haired figure whose back was hunched over, scrutinizing at something on the desk in front of it. 

"Oh, thanks. Sorry for the trouble, Cy." Robin answered as he took the disc without even looking away from all the documents on his desk.

"Don't mention it." politely replied Cyborg, who kept his eyes on Robin as he turned and made his way to the door. Upon arriving, however, he hesitated to step out…still looking at Robin.

Robin noticed. He stopped whatever he was doing and looked up, not exactly at Cyborg, but at the wall upon where the light from the hallway cast Cyborg's shadow. "Was there something else?", the masked hero asked.

At this, Cyborg turned his whole body back to Robin and spoke in a lower, more serious tone. "It's just…it's Star, man. She's worried. And not just her…we're all concerned about you, y'know? It's always like this about Slade."

Robin heaved a heavy sigh before turning his gaze back to the documents on his desk. "I'm sorry, Cy…", he said. "…I'll let you know when I find anything out."

Realizing that there was no more point in arguing with a man who already had his mind set, Cyborg turned around to step out.

"Oh, and…Cy…" Robin called, stopping Cyborg in his tracks. "…tell Starfire I'm okay. There's nothing to worry about…all of you…"

Cyborg nodded in confirmation and stepped out. The door slid close behind him.

Robin paused for a while to consider the ramifications that his obsession was having on his friends. Then his thoughts moved to his so-called "important matters at hand".

The Titan's latest investigations have yielded some curious information. It seemed that the present was not the only time that a criminal like Slade had been active. For ten years before the Titans ever heard of the name "Slade", a similar threat had constantly undergone a cycle of activity and dormancy.

Robin inserted the disc on one of his hologram gadgets. A two-dimensional scene flashed before him as you would see in a television screen. It was an interview with a security guard dated ten years before the founding of the Teen Titans. There was only one camera angle all throughout the video, shot from a corner of the room's ceiling where the interviewee's face was completely visible but only the back of the interviewer could be seen.

"Alright Jenkins…tell me what you saw." The interviewer began.

Jenkins, as it turned out the interviewee's name was, didn't look very…well, shall we say…sane. He sat on the chair with his legs outstretched, his arms lifelessly hanging, and his head tilted to one side. And the blood on his uniform made him look like a corpse.

"Jenkins?" the interviewer continued. "Jenkins? Jenkins?" He was snapping his fingers now. A good six minutes has been wasted without any results. "Jenkins!" the interviewer yelled, losing patience now.

At this, Jenkins slowly turned his head toward his interviewer. The movement had been so eerie that it made the interviewer lean back on his chair.

"He was shot…in the head…", Jenkins said, raising his right hand with the same eerie slowness of movement. His thumb was up, his index and middle fingers outstretched, and the two remaining fingers closed against his palm. With this imaginary "gun" in hand, he aimed right between his eyes.

"Shot…head…fell back against the wall…" continued the interviewee.

"I thought he was dead…", he added. By this time, tears started flooding up his eyes and skimming down his cheeks. Jenkins started shaking his head slowly, saying "No…no…no…" in a weeping tone. "He turned his head to me!" he cried…literally. His face was wet with tears now. He moved his imaginary gun to his right eye. "His right eye…lost…blood all over…"

The interviewer leaned forward again to listen, for Jenkins started mumbling, bowing his head.

"Jenkins…I don't understand…what did you say just now?"

With a swift, violent movement that you wouldn't expect from a man who had made none so far, Jenkins grabbed his right eye with his right hand as if he was trying to pull it out. Instantly, security guards (sane ones) rushed in to try and save Jenkins from himself. They made sure that Jenkins's hands were far from his face as they pulled him out of the room.

All the while, Jenkins was shouting… "He ran to me! He tried to kill me! HE TRIED TO KILL ME! One eye glaring! Blood spilling all over! Sinister voice…one eye…blood…kill…one eye…"

As soon as Jenkins was out of camera-shot and earshot, the video feed was cut.

Robin turned to one side of his room, where a replica of Slade's mask hung for display. He couldn't help but notice the connection to Slade's mask, which had no eye slit on the right half of it. Although the mask could mean that Slade might've wanted to hide his right eye for fear of being identified in case of the presence of a distinct property in it, it could also mean two other things: either he didn't need his right eye, or he didn't have one.

* * *

Robin went to great lengths to investigate what was the name of the man Jenkins referred to, or the name of his faction if he had one…but all to no avail. Whatever, or whoever, this threat was…it was doing a good job of covering its tracks. And that's just, all the more, additional reason to believe that the said man was the elusive Slade. 

The fire in Robin's veins was re-ignited. He was, once again, coming close to acquiring knowledge relevant to his personal war against Slade. But just when the information is at the tip of his fingers, suddenly it's all out of his reach. If he was just given the chance… the chance to go back in time and investigate the cases himself… he would know all about Slade's origins. He would know Slade's secret identity.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: This chapter chronicles events related to the episode entitled "How Long Is Forever?" in the second season of the animated series. If you haven't seen the episode, I've included facts in this chapter that would help you understand the story. I've also included some things that the animated series didn't mention, but are considered facts even in that storyline.

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**Chapter IV**

_**Blüdhaven City, twenty years after the founding of the Teen Titans.**_

It was the first time that the Titans had come together after well about two decades. Unfortunately, one of them had to go away again. Starfire had just entered the time portal that Cyborg had opened for her so she could get back to her own time, back to the early days of the Teen Titans.

The portal was closing now, due to the damage on the device that Cyborg used to open the portal. As soon as the portal was completely closed, the device (which Cyborg had to attach to his sonic cannon arm to activate) detached from Cyborg's arm and fell to the ground.

"Well…there goes Star…" Nightwing said, remembering the days when he was still called "Robin" – the days that Starfire had just gone back to.

"Yeah," said Cyborg, who transformed his hand from cannon form back to normal.

Raven stood in silence for a moment before turning her gaze to the device on the floor. She was thankful that it helped Starfire in the end, but it was originally a villain's tool. "We need to make sure that nobody ever gets to use that device for evil again.", she said.

"No problem!" Beast Boy exclaimed just before transforming into a Gorilla. He raised his right fist and aimed for the device.

"No!" chorused Nightwing, Cyborg, and Raven. But they were too late. Beast Boy's fist came crashing on the poor little thing and smashed it. At the same instant, a flash of bright light and an invisible shockwave emanated from the device. This caused the four Titans to shield their eyes. As soon as the light was gone, so was the device.

"Are you insane?" Cyborg suddenly exploded onto Beast Boy.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Geez…same old Cyborg!" said Beast Boy upon transforming back to his normal form.

"Oh, yeah? Well, it's just like same old Beast Boy to go wrecking stuff without thinking first!" Cyborg replied.

"Well, how was I supposed to know what would happen?" Beast Boy said in defense of himself.

"You weren't…" Raven uttered. "…that's why you shouldn't have done that."

Beast Boy turned to her. The expression on his green face turned from defensive to glad. He laughed before saying, "Same old Raven, too."

Nightwing didn't wait anymore for them to call him 'same old Robin', seeing as to how he wasn't really 'Robin' anymore. "That device…" he interrupted. "…got very unstable when I damaged it. Judging by the fact that there are no more pieces left, I'm sure that it must've opened a portal in time when Beast Boy smashed it, and time-traveled once again. There's no telling to which timeline it would go…or whose hands it would fall on…"

There was an awkward moment's silence before Nightwing spoke again, "I just hope that it won't be somebody like Slade…"

He turned to see the other Titans looking at him, each of them with one eyebrow raised. He realized that he had been exhibiting the same passion he had as Robin: the passion to defeat Slade.

The three other Titans said together, "Same old Robin."


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: All aspects of martial arts presented in this article are based on my own knowledge, not all of them from experience though. All of the moves and techniques are derived from different forms of martial arts, although some of the names are somewhat invented to help non-martial-arts-oriented readers picture the moves. The paragraph about the "Celiac/Solar Plexus" is scientific fact in real life, although the swing of the punching bag is a little exaggerated. Also, the part in this story where Robin recalls an encounter with Slade is a reference to the episode "Apprentice pt.1".

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**Chapter V**

_**Titans Tower, Jump City, the present.**_

It had been quite peaceful so far. No villainous activity had threatened Jump City all day. Beast Boy was, as usual, wasting his life in front of the television. Cyborg decided to join him. Starfire decided to go on patrol just for the fun of flying over the city. Raven was meditating in her room.

As for Robin, he spent the day in the gym inside Titans Tower. He was practicing a few moves on the punching bag.

_Two left-hand jabs, immediately followed by a spinning, right-hand backfist._

_A left-hand jab, followed by a right-hand reverse punch, followed by a spinning right-foot full-moon kick._

He was still thinking about all the leads he had on Slade…

_Turning, right-foot outward fake kick, covering for a spinning, left-foot roundhouse._

…and how they all led to dead ends…

_Left-hand backfist to midsection, left-hand backfist to head section, right-hand hook to head section, right elbow-smash to face, right-hand backfist to face, right-hand kneck-chop._

…and suddenly, it was no longer a punching bag he was hitting…to him, it was Slade…

_Bone-crushing right-hand reverse punch! Wind-slicing right-foot roundhouse! Gut-busting right-foot sidekick! Soul-piercing left-hand reverse punch!_

The punching bag swung a good total of ninety degrees and hit the ceiling before violently swinging a few more arcs (all of which Robin evaded) to get back into vertical position.

That last blow would've been life-threatening if a real person took it. It would've been taken somewhere between the navel and the heart, all the way to what is called the "Celiac Plexus" or "Solar Plexus". This is the very punch that gave birth to the expression "having the wind knocked out of you" due to its temporary paralysis of the diaphragm. However, a blow as powerful as the one Robin just unleashed would have done more than just knock the wind out of a target…it would've been fatal.

Robin stood heaving after that. Powerful as his punch may have been, he knew that it was not enough to put Slade out of commission. He already tried it in one of their encounters, and it didn't work. That's how strong Slade is. And then Robin remembered that, just seconds before he had given Slade that punch, Slade had actually done it to him first and Robin didn't fare as well. This memory just fueled his hate for Slade even further. And now, Slade's left eye was glancing at Robin from the head that he imagined to be on the punching bag. He surrendered all his remaining strength to a right-hand reverse punch as strong as the previous one...but this time, it was aimed for the face.

His fist was closing in…closing in on the target. If Slade had lost his right eye before, Robin was going to cost him his left eye now.

At the moment of impact, there was a bright flash of white light that blinded Robin for a second. It was accompanied by an invisible shockwave of force that pushed itself against Robin, but wasn't quite strong enough to move him. As his eyes fought to regain focus, he saw a huge object getting larger and larger. And then he realized that it was the punching bag, swinging back to him. He tried to evade it, but he was too late. It hit him right in the face.

With a muffled scream, Robin was thrown back. By instinct, he remembered one of the principles of drunken-master fighting: when you fall, don't be as stiff as wood or stone…rather, be as soft as a mattress and land smoothly without hurting yourself. So he did accordingly and plopped down on the floor like a thick sheet of cloth.

He set himself up again and shook the dust off of his costume. "I'm not that strong…" he thought to himself, wondering where the light and the shockwave had come from. He set his eyes down on the floor. There, right below the punching bag, he found a ruined piece of metal that looked direly familiar.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter VI**

_**Jump City, ten years before the founding of the Teen Titans.**_

Mr. Charles was new on the job, but he knew that something was not quite right. They usually met by fours or fives, but never by the dozens like they did that afternoon. He looked around to see about thirty to forty tuxedo-clad men inside the dimly-lit room. "Pawns of a criminal mastermind…just like me.", he thought to himself.

Their boss was seated behind the desk at the end of the room. He was a pitch-black silhouette against the afternoon sunlight from the windows behind him. Charles remembered hearing somewhere that his boss had just come from the country of Quarac. He wondered when the last time he had seen his boss's face was. And then he remembered – he had never seen his boss's face. Come to think of it, this was the first time he ever saw of him. But the overwhelming evil in that silhouette was enough to terminate all curiosity. Once you saw that dark outline, you'd be sure that you don't want to see any more of him.

His boss had just finished talking to their new target over the phone. It was a guy named Wilford or Nelson or something. Charles didn't quite get the last part of the conversation…something about emperors and power and omni-whatever. But he did realize one thing…

"Umm, sir?", he called for the boss's attention. "I think you forgot to tell him where and when to meet you, sir…", he finished.

There wasn't really any noise in the room, but it somehow managed to grow more silent in a split-second. Charles could feel every man in the room holding his breath. Apparently, he did something wrong. Charles didn't really see his boss's stare, but he could _feel_ it. The fire in it petrified the poor guy. It bore a hole right through Charles's soul.

A man near the desk took a deep breath before saying, "I'm sorry, sir. He's new."

The boss's seemingly all-seeing stare turned to the man who had just spoken. A sinister voice echoed from behind the silhouette. It said, "Oh, he is, isn't he?"

"Yes, sir." said the man again, now a tone of hopelessness perceptible in his voice.

"Are you the one who recruited this idiot?" said the boss casually…so casually, it sounded so cruel.

"Y-yes…sir…" replied the man, the tone of hopelessness transforming into despair.

"I see." said the boss. For a time, Charles felt the others moving away from the man who confessed to be his recruiter. Then he realized that they were clearing a path…between the man and another one at the other end of the room.

"Regal, you know what to do.", uttered the boss. The man on the other end of the room, Regal, pulled out a handgun with a silencer attached. There was a suppressed sound of a gunshot, and a muffled scream as blood gushed out from the other man's throat, stripping him of all rights to scream before dropping dead on the ground and making a bloody mess.

The boss's stare turned back to Charles now. He thought it was bad before, it was worse now. Charles felt he'd rather take a bullet from Regal's gun than suffer the torment of that evil gaze.

"Now, underling…" the boss spoke. "…are you suggesting that I explicitly give Mr. Wilson confidential information over a _phone conversation_, and risk being intercepted?"

Charles dared not speak.

"Clearly…" the boss went on. "You have no idea of what good old Mr. Wilson is capable of. The thirty-six of you…" here, he stopped. He gave a momentary sideways glance at the corpse on the floor before continuing. "…_thirty-five_ of you…would not all be here if we were dealing with just anybody. You're all here because we're dealing with someone…_special_."

* * *

Slamming the phone down, Mr. Wilson gritted his teeth. He was desperate to save his son. But he knew it wasn't going to be as easy as some superhero dropping in from the future to help him out. No, it wasn't going to be that easy. 

The message still rang inside his head:

"_Many emperors embody titanic might, especially in new perils. Inevitably, emperors rise, fall, or remain timeless. Yet omnipresence, never easily attained through self-empowerment, eludes vain emperors nonetheless."_

He knew at once what the message was all about. The mystery caller knew that Wilson was not your average Joe. Combat experience from his days in the US military had honed his skills to razor-sharpness.

The message he was given, when taken at face value, roughly translates to: "You're powerful, Wilson, especially when faced with danger. People like you come and go, and some remain legends forever. But you can't be in two places at the same time. And we took advantage of that in kidnapping your son."

However, Wilson also knew that it was a code. He proceeded to mentally decipher it. He pulled out the first letter in every word (remembering that "self-empowerment" was one word) and dropped all the other letters. He was left with:

"MEETMEINPIERFORTYONEATSEVEN"

Which, when organized into separate words, read: "Meet me in Pier Forty-one at seven."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter VII**

_**Titans Tower, Jump City, the present.**_

Robin's room was decorated with newspaper clippings, more than half of which were Slade-related articles. His desk was littered with wrenches, screwdrivers, and all the tools he could get his hands on without looking too suspicious. The Teen Titan had locked himself up in his room for the past two hours, trying to make something of the trash that appeared in the gym floor earlier. One good look made him realize what it was – it was the time-traveling device used by one of their enemies, the one named "Warp".

How it got to this timeline, Robin did not know. But he couldn't let such a thing go to waste. He spent the entire two hours trying to repair it. He did manage to get the pieces back together, and succeeded in feeding it power from one of his electro-discs. But beyond that, Robin was lost.

For a fleeting moment, he thought of asking Cyborg for help, but he quickly dismissed the idea. He couldn't afford to let the other Titans in on it. He imagined Raven giving a speech about how it shouldn't be repaired in fear of evil forces that would try to get their hands on it. He imagined Beast Boy smashing the device right after Raven's speech. And he imagined Cyborg bursting out into a quarrel with Beast Boy.

But what really bothered Robin was the way Starfire would react. Their first encounter against Warp had been quite traumatic on her. She accidentally got sent twenty years into the future where she witnessed how much the Titans would drift apart from each other. To a peace-loving, friendly girl like Starfire, it was her worst nightmare come true. Although her actions had managed to get her back to her original timeline and helped change the course of history, Robin knew that there's nothing quite as painful as reliving your worst nightmare again…even if it's just in your memories.

No. He was in this alone.

Finally deciding that he would have to be satisfied with what he can do with the device by himself, he connected on it a chip that allowed him to remotely access and analyze it from his computer (ala-Bluetooth). He studied as much of the complex engineering principles involved. He sooner found out that the device was damaged beyond full-repair. It only had enough functioning parts in it to open a time-portal one last time. And even so, whatever enters that time-portal would not be able stay in the destination timeline for more than two hours. If Robin were to enter it, he only had two hours to spend on his destination timeline before instantly getting transported back to the present.

There were a lot of things in the future that Robin had wanted to see. He always wondered what would become of him and Starfire…and the other Titans, of course. Then again, he had also been longing to see his future self "Nightwing", whom Starfire talked about from her trip to the future.

On the other hand, there were also a lot of past events where two hours could've made a big difference. The time that his family was murdered. Or that time he quarreled with his mentor and ex-girlfriend at the same time…he just remembered that he had not reconciled with either one, yet.

But he knew that he shouldn't meddle with past events that directly involved him for there will be no telling what ramifications his actions in the past might make upon his present. If he was seriously considering time-traveling…there had to be only one destination: ten years before the founding of the Teen Titans…the day that all this began.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: Finally! An update! I know I don't have too many readers, but…yeah. Sorry for my long absence. I already have a few more chapters saved up, but I decided I'll edit them real good before uploading them all. On with the story…

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**Chapter VIII**

_**Titans Tower, Jump City, the present.**_

Robin was getting ready for the trip to the past. He couldn't risk attracting too much attention while there for fear of changing the course of history. Hence he decided to go as Dick Grayson and not Robin, wearing casual jeans, a red shirt, and a black jacket over it. Underneath his civilian get-up however, was a belt-full of tools and gadgets that might come in handy. He also decided to bring his mask…just in case the need arises for him to hide his identity.

He recalled the interview with Jenkins.

_There was fresh blood on his uniform…looked like it's been there for an hour. So, three hours before the interview. Around 6:30 in the afternoon…that should be my landing time…_

But the real problem was the landing _place_. For, in plotting the coordinates, Robin discovered another glitch in the device. There's no guarantee that it would bring him exactly to his target spot. He could land anywhere within a hundred miles radius from his target coordinates. Taking these things into consideration, he set his target spot for the center of Jump City. That way, he would have a higher chance of landing right in the city or at least somewhere near it.

He attached the device to his utility belt, which will also serve as his means of controlling the device without his computer. He paused to consider what he was about to experience.

_Two hours…that's all I have. It's highly unlikely that I might find anything relevant at all… I'm not even sure if Jump City is a good place to start looking… But it's all worth a try…_

He pushed a button on the device on his belt. With a split-second flash, and a barely perceptible shockwave, a portal of blinding white light opened before him. He entered and then the portal shrunk to nothingness.

* * *

**_Two miles outside Jump City, ten years before the founding of the Teen Titans._**

Robin found himself stepping out into what seemed like a large bedroom. As soon as he was out of the time-travel tunnel he crouched into a fighting stance, expecting anything. He looked around and surveyed the environment. There was nobody else in there but him.

The room was clearly a bedroom, having a four-poster bed, a bedside desk, and two doorways on different sides of the room, one of which (Robin assumed) led to a bathroom and the other to the main chamber of the house. On the wall opposite to the door that led to the main chamber was a huge, curtained, glass window. On the side opposite to the door that led to the bathroom was a tall wardrobe. The room was vast and its ceiling could be found about ten meters up.

_It almost looks like my room when I was staying with Bruce Wayne…_

Robin noticed that there were a lot of ornaments about, some of which were expensive vases that – Robin had just realized – were shaking in their places.

_Of course! The shockwave from the opening of the portal must've shaken those vases. If that force could be felt from the outside…somebody might come here and check!_

Now that the idea struck him, Robin thought he heard footsteps nearby…getting closer and closer. He had to hide somewhere…

He turned and looked at the wardrobe.

* * *

The butler was dusting the framed paintings on the second floor hallway when he thought he felt a disturbance in the normal flow of the wind. This was confirmed when he looked down the hallway and found some of the paintings more tilted to one side or another, not quite how they were when he had just finished dusting them.

He looked around and found nobody else. He knew that his master and he were the only ones in the house, and Mr. Wilson was still downstairs. And whatever did that to multiple framed paintings in a split second without even being detected – that hardly counts as something his master would do in his own house for whatever reason.

He walked over to the nearest room to check. He opened the door and he was met by nothing out of the ordinary. The four-poster bed, the bedside table, the wardrobe, the curtained window, all the vases and both doors were exactly as they had always been. But he went in further…just to be sure.

He turned and found nothing suspicious (for the vases have stopped shaking by then). He checked the bathroom but nobody was there. Just when he thought of going back to his work, his instincts turned his head to the wardrobe at one side of the room.

This butler had also been a soldier once, in the British army. And he knew better than to distrust the instincts of a soldier, especially when dealing with things similar to soldier activities. What he was doing at the moment surely looked similar to hunting for intruders.

He closed in on the wardrobe and confirmed that it was closed. He knew that an intruder would not be stupid enough to lock himself inside a wardrobe with no chance of getting back out (without making a lot of noise, that is). But he checked inside just in case.

He pushed coats aside right and left. He went into the wardrobe himself. He made absolutely sure that he had checked every inch of it before going back out.

He found nobody.

* * *

Robin, who was lying flat on his stomach on top of the tall wardrobe, heard the man's footsteps moving away and back to the door from where he came in. He silently raised his head to get a better view, overlooking the entirety of the room. From the looks of the man, Robin assumed he must be the butler.

_He's just like Alfred…_, he figured, recalling the butler that he and his mentor had when he was still staying at Wayne Manor.

The man had almost reached the door when another man came in. Robin instinctively lowered his head out of sight. He listened to the two men's conversation.

"Will! There you are!" said one of them, obviously the one who had just entered.

"Listen, I'm going to Jump City. I have to meet someone there, it's urgent. I hope you don't mind leaving dusting for a while to drive me there?" asked the same man in a polite manner.

"No problem at all, sir. I'll just get changed."

"Okay, Will…I'll wait for you downstairs."

The two men exited the room and closed the door behind them.

As soon as he was sure they were both a good distance away, Robin dropped down soundlessly on the bedroom floor. He walked to the curtained window and took a peek at the outside world. He saw the vast gardens that comprised the mansion's grounds and the pavement road that ran through them and went around the mansion. At the far end were a brick wall and a metal-barred gate where the grounds' road connected to the road on the other side of the gate. Beyond the wall were woods that extended to as far as the eye can see. The gate had a symbol on it: the letter "W".

"_W", huh? Well, what do you know? This is just like Wayne Manor._ he thought to himself, remembering his mentor's home…_his_ own former home. But he knew that it was not the same place. No matter how much the butler resembled Alfred, Robin was sure it was not him. The master of the house called him "Will". Besides, Wayne Manor was situated near Gotham City, nowhere near the area of Robin's possible landing.

This reminded Robin of what he heard earlier. The master said he needed to go to Jump City, meaning that Robin did not land _within_ the city. And there was only one way for him to find his way to his destination: follow the course that the men's car would take.

Robin briefly checked for signs of an alarm system installed for the windows. Finding none, he pushed the window open just wide enough for him to slip through. He hung the grappling end of his bird-shaped grappling hook somewhere on the base of the window and pushed the button that released more rope. This way, he slowly descended to the gardens, careful not to pass by any windows on the first floor.

With all the thick bushes and tall plants, invisibility was not a problem (especially not to a stealth-specialist like Robin, who thought that it was easier not to be seen rather than to be seen in that condition). Robin traversed the entire length of the gardens and made his way to the brick wall on the far side, taking care not to shake the plants too much as he passed by. And then there, he waited.

* * *

It was one of the earliest car models that made no engine noise. But that didn't stop Robin from sensing it as it emerged from behind the mansion and drove down the curved road, stopping by the front steps. The front doors opened and out came the master of the house, who closed and locked the doors behind him. Robin pulled out a cylindrical device the size of a cigarette from his utility belt. It was actually a portable telescope…that he now used to get a clear view of the man making his way down the stairs and to the car.

Although it was but a fleeting glimpse, Robin did get a good look at the man's face. There was something about the man that seemed both otherworldly and familiar to Robin, who couldn't quite place what it was. All he knew was that the man had some kind of…_aura_.

It was only when the car had already driven down the road, and exited the gates, that the thought dawned in him. When the gates closed (they are remote-controlled by the butler), the "W" insignias on them contributed a lot to the formulation of Robin's idea:

_Coincidences just keep coming… That guy has the aura of a _Bruce Wayne_ about him…

* * *

_

**Author's Note: Sorry for the late update. My computer's been having seizures lately. Just a little fun fact: around the time that I was typing the last line in this chapter (particularly the part where Robin thinks about Bruce Wayne), something entered our house's terrace door and went straight for my and my brother's room. My brother said it was a bird and I thought about how fitting it is for a bird to fly into our room just when I was writing about Robin. I went to check it out. Guess what… it wasn't a bird at all. It was a bat. And just how fitting is it that the last line of this chapter had the terms "coincidences" and "Bruce Wayne" in it?**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter IX**

"What do we do with _him_, sir?" said the butler from the driver's seat, who was looking at his master sitting in the back by way of the rearview mirror.

"Who?" Mr. Wilson asked, a puzzled look on his face.

"The intruder, sir. He was watching us from behind the garden plants. I'm sure a man of your caliber must have sensed the presence of such an amateur."

"Someone was watching us?"

"Yes, sir. Didn't you – "

"I didn't notice anyone, Will. It's just your imagination playing tricks on you."

"No, sir. I'm _positive_ someone was there. I even felt his presence _inside_ the mansion."

"You _felt_ him?"

"Yes, sir. I looked for him but – "

"Did you find him?"

"…"

"Did you see this _intruder_ of yours, Will?"

"No, sir. I didn't."

There was silence. The butler knew what the conversation was going to come down to.

It was Wilson who broke the silence with a hollow laugh, followed by a joking comment: "I never knew you missed me that much – enough to drive you nuts!" Wilson followed this up with another laugh.

"Tell you what, Will… While I'm attending to my business in the city, you can wait for me at the restaurant of your choice."

The butler wasn't convinced that his intuitions were wrong. But if his master told him so, it could only be one of two things. His master had either the correct idea, or a good reason _not_ to present the correct idea.

"Thank you, sir." was all that Butler Will could answer.

Mr. Wilson smiled in reply and turned his gaze back to the zooming-landscape-view outside his car window. The truth was he _did_ sense the presence of another individual besides Will and himself. Once in the spare bedroom when he asked Will to drive him to the city, and once again before getting into the car. It was the distinct feeling when being watched, that is honed with experience in the battlefield.

The problem was that he was not in a position to make any moves – offensive or defensive, for that matter. The intruder was probably someone sent by his son's kidnapper to make sure that he didn't try to do anything heroic. He couldn't afford to let anyone else in on his predicament either, not even Will nor his own wife. If his observer saw anything to dislike, Joseph was as good as dead.

Wilson would have to play by the enemy's rules…_for now_.

* * *

Robin checked the countdown-timer that he programmed the time-travel device to display.

_I have only one hour and forty-five minutes left. I need to get moving. Make every second count, Robin…_

He surveyed the brick wall that separated the mansion grounds from the woods outside, mentally taking estimated measurements. He took a few steps backward. And then, producing a pole-weapon from his belt, Robin performed a pole-jump over the wall. Before falling on the ground at the other side, he caught a thick tree-branch with one hand (as the other was still holding the pole) and let the centrifugal force carry him in an arc that went under the branch and beside it until he was on top of the branch where he planted his feet with perfect balance.

Robin's position provided a good view of the extensive woods. The car he was following was already a good distance away, but (as you would see later on) that was not a problem. If anything, it would just mean more invisibility for him. The road went through a series of smooth, curved turns but there was no fork in sight.

_The fastest way to a destination is a straight line._ – he thought.

He kept his pole and brought out his grappling hook again. He aimed for the farthest tree directly in front of him that his rope would allow him to reach, and fired. He then let himself get pulled to his target spot by his gadget's reeling mechanism, ignoring the curves and turns that the road took, as long as he stayed on the general path. He did this over and over, crossing the woods, until he came across a fork in the road.

By the time he got to the fork, the car was already out of sight, the moon was already up and the stars were already twinkling against the night sky. To find out which way the car went, Robin brought out another device similar to the telescope he used earlier but with slightly different features.

This camera doesn't have the zoom feature of the original telescope, but serves as some kind of an _infrared camera_ (or _thermographic_ camera). It runs on the principle that all objects give off varying degrees of temperature radiation, and that those radiations can be detected and projected into images. Cameras of that type tend to be monochromatic, making distinctions between temperatures by way of the color's intensity. However, the one that Robin was using displayed images in what is called _false-color_, meaning that temperature radiations are represented by different colors instead of different intensities. The higher the temperature radiation is, the brighter the color as seen through the scope.

Using this little gadget, Robin could clearly see the parts of the road with the highest temperature radiations. The hottest parts of the road, of course, were the parts where friction was present recently. This way, he found out which turns the car took.

* * *

At around the same time, the car pulled over in front of a Chinese restaurant in Jump City. Mr. Wilson and his butler got out of the car.

"Are you quite sure, sir?" the butler asked.

"Yes, Will. Go ahead and take a break. You deserve it. I can walk to my…my _appointment_. It's just around the block."

"Very well, sir. I shall be here when you get back."

With that, the two men parted. The butler entered the restaurant, and the master went around the block…just for the sake of making his companion think that his destination was somewhere nearby. In truth, Wilson still had to take the subway to the edge of the city where his so-called "_appointment_" was to take place – at Pier 41.

* * *

**Author's Note: The paragraph about the infrared camera is scientific fact in real life, even the "false-color" aspect. Perhaps the only fictitious thing about it is the size of Robin's camera (the size of a cigarette; although I wouldn't be surprised if an infrared camera exists in such a size nowadays). It is also an allusion to a similar device that the Dark Knight uses in the animated series "The Batman". For the continuing drama of the bat who entered my room, well, he's gone. Our house-helper put him out the back of the house the same night he came and he stayed there with the dogs (yes, with the dogs; and they didn't hurt him). Two nights later, on my way home from school, I thought of keeping it as a pet because it was still there before I left the house that morning. But when I got home that night, I found out that our house-helper had thrown him over the hedge at the back of our house because nobody else in the house could stand having a bat around. Poor, misunderstood creature.**

**ADDED NOTE FOR RENA REDHEAD: I made an allusion to chapter 10 of your story "What?" by putting a Chinese restaurant in this chapter. I hope you don't mind. :-D**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter X**

"Okay… I'm here…." said Robin to himself. He had just arrived at Jump City, and didn't bother anymore to follow the car to its exact destination since thermal readings were already high everywhere. "But where to next?"

He checked the countdown-timer: _One hour and twenty-seven minutes left._

His casual get-up made it easy to blend in with the civilian populace as they went about their busy lives and he went with his. For a short while, Robin was wandering about without a particular destination in mind. He realized this and forced himself to think…

_Okay, Robin! Stop wasting time! This is Slade you're dealing with. Where would you start looking?_

The obvious answer that presented itself was one of Slade's hideouts. But which one? Slade never stayed on the same place that had already been discovered by someone. Robin had been into two of them. The story on how he found the first hideout is a long one; but basically, Slade let him find it…before taking him in as an apprentice. The second hideout was found when they chased Terra (ironically Slade's second apprentice) in her retreat from battle.

_Of course. Between the two, it's more likely that the first one is the same hideout Slade's using now. The search for that place began at Pier 41. If I can get there…I might be able to retrace my steps right to Slade's doorstep.

* * *

_

Will wasn't enjoying his dinner at all. The anxiety was building up inside him. There have been times before when he had not approved of some of his master's decisions, but there had not been such a time when he was _this_ sure that his master had made a decision _that_ wrong. His soldier instincts were flaring up again and, now more than ever, he _knew_ better than to distrust the instincts of a soldier.

He looked out the window into the streets. It was seven o'clock and traffic was starting to get thick even in that remote part of the town. Will found it amazing how people went about the same exact routines every single day of their lives, oblivious to all the dangers lurking around every corner, all the threats hiding beneath the shadows, all the accidents just waiting to happen. He found it amazing how one's own personal Grim Reaper could stare at his victim in the eye and still be invisible.

Well, he wasn't about to let the same thing happen to himself nor his master.

_I see this Grim Reaper now. I'm sorry sir, but I have to do this._

Will pulled out his cell-phone from his pocket.

* * *

"I'm sorry. I thought we should let you know." uttered one of the men to the woman who was standing with them in that room.

"Oh my God…what happened?" asked the woman, her shocked gaze fell on the dead body before her. It was the corpse of one of her former students in her job as a military instructor.

"Instructor…" another man explained. "…We were hired for a security mission on Quarac…."

"By whom?" she interrupted.

"Need-to-know basis, ma'am."

"One of the best students I've ever trained is lying dead before me! And you're telling me it's none of my business?"

"No, ma'am. I mean yes, ma'am, it's your business. But like I said, we're disseminating information here only on a need-to-know basis."

"I know what you said! And it's the same as saying it's none of my business!"

"Ma'am! Please, understand! We are mercenaries, guns-for-hire, yes. But we do have our professional code of ethics to consider. I'm sure you understand that."

The woman was stopped frozen. That explanation hit her hard. Indeed, she understood. But she could never bring herself to admit that to those men. The statement sounded like something she would have said herself. Except for one little thing…

"Well, _I'm_ not a mercenary! And you've all proven yourselves stubborn the day you refused to hear my advices against taking up that profession! Look at you now! Look at _him_ now!" at this, she extended her hand toward the lifeless body before them. The men were speechless.

Fighting the urge to hammer away at the already guilty men, the woman let out a heavy sigh and said, "Okay. Let's do this in another way. Who killed him?"

"Well, as I was saying, Ma'am, we were on a security mission on Quarac. We found out that the enemy hired an assassin to target our VIP. So we moved in to intercept the assassin… Unfortunately…" Nobody dared to continue the sentence.

"Ma'am…we were just doing our job…" said one of the men gloomily.

"And did it ever occur to you that that assassin was also just doing his?" irritably blurted out the woman. "The name. Give me the name of this…assassin." she asked.

"From what we gathered in our short-lived investigations, ma'am, the assassin goes by the call-sign _'Deathstroke'_. Unfortunately, we weren't able to stop him from killing Colonel – " the man stopped talking when he felt one of his allies' elbow connect with his side. Apparently, he had given away too much information already and was about to give away more.

The woman sharpened her stare, but didn't pursue it anymore. "Deathstroke, huh?" she said. "I'll make sure that the military watches out for this name."

She turned her gaze back at the dead body. It was so depressing for her to see her former student like that; once a vigorous youth honing his skills to near-perfection, now just a lifeless mass of skin, muscle, and bone whose dreams have all been shattered.

And just when she thought things couldn't get any worse…her cell-phone rang.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Mrs. Wilson. I need to have a word with you. It's urgent." said the voice on the other end of the line.

"William? Will, is that you?"

"Yes, ma'am. I need to talk to you about Sir Wilson."

"What about him?"

"Not over the phone, ma'am. If you please, I'll pick you up. It's really urgent."


End file.
